


What a Wicked Thing to Do

by Dearly_Divided



Series: Love is not a victory march... [2]
Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Kind of Canon Compliant, Minor Character Death, Protective Jacob, Soulmates, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 14:22:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20676836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dearly_Divided/pseuds/Dearly_Divided
Summary: For all the awful things that Jacob Seed had done to her, he’d never once laid a hand against her. He’d starved her, conditioned her, made her into his lovely little killing machine, but not once had he ever hurt her himself – he hadn’t needed to.Rook almost wished he had. That way she would have known before it was too late, and she would have run, run for the fucking hills. Because being Jacob Seed’s soulmate was a fate she wouldn’t wish on her worst enemy.





	What a Wicked Thing to Do

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2 of my Soulmate AU series! Enjoy, my lovelies!

For all the awful things that Jacob Seed had done to her, he’d never once laid a hand against her. He’d starved her, conditioned her, made her into his lovely little killing machine, but not once had he ever hurt her himself – he hadn’t needed to.

Rook almost wished he had. That way she would have known before it was too late, and she would have run, run for the fucking hills. Because being Jacob Seed’s soulmate was a fate she wouldn’t wish on her worst enemy.

Rook had been twelve the first time she’d heard about soulmates – they were a rare thing, two people who, for whatever reason, were handpicked for each other. It was more than love, her grandma had gently explained, it was a bond that couldn’t be explained. It simply was and always had been – something ancient and unshakable but undeniable. That kind of love wasn’t always pretty and it wasn’t always perfect, but it was something that couldn’t be ignored.

Your soulmate was a reflection of yourself – the good and the bad and everything in between. No matter where you went, what you did or who you became, your soulmate would always carry that piece of you and like a beacon it called you home.

“How do you know they’re your soulmate?” she’d asked, wide eyed and curious.

Her grandma had paused, sighing deeply as she took Rook’s young face in her hands. Something oddly sad flickered in her eyes, “Your soulmate can never hurt you, my child.”

There was something in her tone, a bone-tired weariness that seemed so out of place for the warm and perpetually cheerful woman, that told Rook not to push any further. There was a strange feeling in her stomach, an unease that settled like a rock. The things she’d said about soulmates had sounded wonderful, but why then did she look so unhappy?

For whatever reason, that was the first day that Rook closed her eyes and prayed that she didn’t have a soulmate.

Of course, she hardly had a say in the matter. Like her grandma had told her; she could run halfway around the world and her soulmate would still be drawn to her. It was inevitable, fighting got you nowhere.

Truth be told, Rook barely remembered the first time she’d come face to face with Jacob. There, in that stuffy church, Rook had been too focused on trying to arrest Joseph and keep the situation from spiralling out of control to really pay him all that much attention. She probably should have – out of all of them Jacob was definitely the biggest threat, the one most likely to track them down and put a bullet in their brains if anything happened to his brother. He’d killed before, and one look into those hungry and predatory blue eyes and Rook had no doubts that he’d gladly do so again.

If she’d known then that in just a few short hours he and his siblings would be hunting her down then maybe she would have paid a bit more attention to the soldier, but it wouldn’t exactly have made a difference now, would it?

Like magnets, they found their way to each other.

Rook wasn’t blind, she knew that Jacob gave her special treatment. Sure, he starved her, refused her water, flooded her mind with impulses that weren’t her own, wound her up and sent her into his trials to slaughter with mindless efficiency, but he paid far more attention to her than he did any of his other captives. It wasn’t exactly kindness, Rook wasn’t sure that he was capable of that, but it put her on edge nevertheless. It wasn’t out of any sense of affection or tenderness; it was just another attempt to break her down. There was nothing kind in his touch as he tilted her head to meet his gaze, his fingers stroking through her curls.

Even when she wasn’t under his care, Jacob followed her around the County – the mocking radio calls made at the most inopportune times. Heaven forbid that Rook forgot the control he had over her, the control his siblings could only dream of having. Even when he crooned for her to come back to him, to come  _ home _ , Rook ignored it.

If she had half a brain, she would have steered clear of the Whitetails the very moment that she woke up after that first trial, but she had to save Staci, she had to stop them.

In the end it was pointless, because Jacob got his way.

Staci had broken her out and spirited her away just in time, damning himself to death in the process, only for her to come right back and play into Jacob’s hands.

She might as well have been his puppet – she’d dance if he wanted her to. With a few notes of that god-awful song and a single order whispered into her ear, Rook had marched into the Wolf’s Den (it was supposed to be a sanctuary, it was supposed to be  _ safe _ ) and put a bullet between Eli’s eyes. 

And how he’d lorded his victory over her,  _ it was only ever you _ .

It had been the pride in his voice, the gloating triumph singing through his tone that had sparked the wrath inside of her, lighting an inferno that burned until all she could think about was finding him, wrapping her hands around his throat and  _ squeezing _ .

Rook had never enjoyed killing – they’d forced her hand from the beginning. She’d never revelled in the blood, she wasn’t the monster that he was trying to make her into.

And yet as she advanced down the hillside her, forgoing her rifle in favour of her knife, she couldn’t help but feel a little trill of pleasure as every one of his men fell to her. Up on the peak, lying on his stomach, that damned red sniper rifle of his trained on her, Jacob watched and waited.

Once upon a time, she’d been a good person; she had mercy, kindness – she’d wanted to  _ help _ . He’d taken that from her, ripped it out of her as he forced her to watch helplessly as her body moved with a mind of its own, squeezing that trigger and witnessing Eli’s eyes widen moments before the life left them and his body crumpled to the floor.

Her fault.

She tore through his men like butter, and Jacob just watched. He had the chance to take his shot, Rook made no effort to hide herself.

_ Take the shot you coward, or so fucking help me God, I’ll kill you myself _ .

But he didn’t move, content to sit there and watch her in all her savage glory.

His funeral.

And when the last of his men dropped dead at her feet, she raised her eyes to stare him down, to give him one last choice to put her down before she came for him, her teeth bared.

It was hard to tell, what with his face hidden behind the scope of his rifle, but Rook could have sworn that he smirked.

She couldn’t stop the snarl that ripped its way from her throat, “What are you waiting for?! I’m weak, cull the herd, soldier!”

Jacob just chuckled. “Oh honey, we’re not done here,” he sang out. “Not yet.”

Her eyes narrowed, her fist tightening around the blood slicked handle of her knife. Fine, if he wanted to die so bad, be the sacrificial lamb for his little brother, then Rook would oblige him.

Rook dropped her rifle; she wouldn’t need it. No, she wouldn’t grant Jacob Seed the mercy of a quick and painless death.

With each step she took towards him, clambering up that rocky outcrop her heart rate increased, beating against her ribs like a hummingbird’s. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t turn away now, some buried part of her wouldn’t let her. Besides, she owed it to Eli, to Staci, to every single person, innocent or not, that Jacob Seed had ever laid his hands on to finish this or die trying.

Jacob was waiting for her up top, his rifle lying on the ground beside him, his knife still tucked away in the holster at his thigh. He merely smirked as she hauled herself up, panting slightly from the effort. His cool blue eyes regarded her, trailing up her body with deliberate slowness as she made her way to her feet. Rook wasn’t sure if it was the predatory gleam in his eyes that made her shudder, or the way that he licked his lips, but she did, and it only served to make him laugh.

Jacob took a single step towards her. “About time, pup,” he said, spreading his arms wide like he was welcoming her home. “I was beginning to think you’d gotten cold feet on me.”

“Fuck you,” was all the warning Rook gave before she dived at him, knife flying. It wasn’t the smartest move, but in the heat of the moment with her heart pounding and the thrill of the battle still racing through her veins, she wasn’t thinking strategically, she was thinking about beating the absolute shit out of the monster before her.

Jacob saw her coming and braced. Quicker than a man of nearly fifty had any right to be he sidestepped her, catching her by the waist and tossing her to the ground like a sack of potatoes. The knife she’d held clattered uselessly to the ground just out of reach.

The force of the blow knocked the air out of her lungs and before she could shake herself free, he was on her, knees either side of her chest, his lips twisted into a cruel smirk as he stared down at her. “You can’t win, you know that right? You’re not a hero, Rook, you’re nothing but-”

Rook let out a feral scream and like a cornered snake, she struck hard and fast; her fist flying towards his face.

She shouldn’t have been surprised when he caught it in his hand with a grunt, curling his fingers around hers and  _ squeezed. _ With all the rage and devastation from losing Eli ( _ killing _ Eli) feeding her fury, it took her a second to realise that while Jacob’s hand tightened, his face twisting into a savage sneer above hers, something was wrong.

She felt nothing.

There was pressure – pressure that should have made her bones pop, pressure that should have had her screaming beneath him, whimpering for mercy.

It didn’t hurt.

With horrifying clarity, her eyes widening like a deer caught in the headlights, trying desperately to draw air into her lungs (she couldn’t breathe, why the fuck couldn’t she breathe?) realisation dawned on her.

It didn’t hurt.

Looming above her, confusion flickered across Jacob’s scarred face, but Rook barely noticed. All she could hear was her heartbeat, pounding in her ears like a drum, drowning out everything around her.

No, it wasn’t right. Jacob was – he – no.

No.

He’d hurt her before, in the cages, hadn’t he? He’d starved her, mocked her, petted and pawed at her like she was some kind of house trained puppy, but he’d never-

He’d never hit her, never tried to hurt her himself…

Jacob cocked his head, studying her with those piercing blue eyes, his grip slowly loosening as the fight fled from her, leaving her boneless and breathless at his mercy.

… But he  _ had _ hurt her - that damned fucking music box. She’d tried to grab it and stomped his boot down on her hand. Hadn’t that hurt? It was a haze; the bliss, that fucking song, she could barely think, hardly move. She’d dropped the box, it had to have hurt.

Why couldn’t she remember if it hurt?!

“Rook?” his voice, rough and low, called her back to him.

Finally, she met his gaze, her eyes wide and terrified, and in that instant, Jacob  _ knew. _

It didn’t hurt.

They were  _ soulmates _ .

And yet instead of the sick, twisted glee she half expected from the soldier, Jacob dropped her hand like she’d stung him, flinching away from her and shuddering as disgust twisted his features. He didn’t say a word, didn’t look like he was capable of it, his mouth hanging open like a fish out of water, gasping for air.

He looked horrified, revolted by the realisation that the woman beneath him, the one who’d been fighting against him and his brothers from the get-go, was  _ his _ soulmate. For the first time since she’d met him, Jacob Seed was  _ shaken _ , and Rook couldn’t even take any pleasure in it.

It stung, another knife in her gut; even her monster of a soulmate didn’t want her. She was good enough to be his little one woman army, but a lover? His soulmate? No, she wasn’t  _ strong _ enough for that.

Well fuck him, she wasn’t some love sick fool and this wasn’t a love story. Jacob could be as disappointed in the soulmate that God had given him as he wanted, it wasn’t like she was jumping for joy either. He was a monster, a killer and he’d turned her into the same.

She didn’t want him, so it was just fine that he didn’t want her.

“Get the fuck off of me,” she growled, her voice trembling but no less vitriolic.

For just a split second, Jacob glanced down to his right hip. Rook followed his gaze, her stomach dropping when she saw what he was looking at; the small but distinct bulge of his jean pocket; the all too familiar music box within arm’s reach. He only looked for the briefest of moments, but it was enough.

Like a switch flipped, fear rippled through her, kicking her back into gear. With a sudden burst of energy, she bucked and shoved at his shoulders. And yet, even in shock, Jacob barely shifted as she thrashed, taking her hits with little more than a grunt, all the while he just stared at her, unmoving. It was like he was staring at a ghost, something wrong and unnatural, something that shook him to his very core.

Every second that he remained on top of her, the panic welled, building to a crescendo. His hand twitched, reaching for her but when she flinched away, snapping her teeth like a cornered wolf, he let it drop back to his side. He was too close, his scent (gunpowder, blood and smoke) filling her nose, his body too warm against hers.

She screamed, a desperate, broken sound, “Get off of me, get off, GET OFF!”

He blinked, his brows drawing closer in a frown. He opened his mouth as if to speak, only to let it fall shut with a sigh. Instead he just shook his head, and as if he suddenly remembered who she was, that disgusted look returned and he shoved himself off of her like she was poison.

Rook didn’t waste a second. He might not be able to hurt her, but Jacob Seed was a still a threat. He’d wanted her dead from the beginning, she wasn’t so naïve as to believe that that changed just because he found out what she was.

He didn’t reach for her as she scrambled to her feet, didn’t utter a word as she picked up the knife that she’d dropped and ran, but breathing hard and with an unreadable look in his eyes, Jacob watched her go.

His soulmate, fleeing like hell itself was on her heels.

Rook didn’t know how far she ran or for how long, but by some stroke of luck, or maybe divine intervention, Sharky found her wandering in the wilderness.

For once, he didn’t pass comment about her banged up appearance, the blood soaked and torn clothing, the puffy bags under her bloodshot eyes, and the tear tracks down her cheeks. He just swept her into his arms, crushing her against him.

“It’s gonna be alright, Chica. I promise.”

In the arms of her best friend, Rook broke.

He took her somewhere safe, an old abandoned cabin that he and Hurk used as a hideout, got a fire started, wrapped her in a blanket and found her something to eat. She told him everything, and Sharky, the godsend that he was, didn’t judge her, not for a second.

As she sobbed against him, Sharky stayed quiet, he didn’t crack jokes or try and cheer her up, he just held her close and gave her what little comfort he could.

“You want me to kill him for you?” he asked with a half-hearted attempt at a grin when her sobs had died down to the occasional sniffle.

She might have laughed, if it didn’t feel like her entire world was burning around her. “Would you?”

Jacob deserved it. The things he’d done – to her, to Staci, to Eli, fuck, to every person he and his family had taken, those that had made it and those who hadn’t. Surely if anyone deserved death, it was Jacob Seed. But Sharky’s smile faded and he squeezed her just that little bit tighter, and maybe that was enough of an answer in itself.

“You know the answer to that, Chica.”

She let out a shaky breath, a fresh wave of tears spilling down her cheeks. “He deserves it.”

It was the way that he looked at her, the pity in his eyes, that stung the most. “For whatever fucked up reason, he’s your soulmate.” She flinched and Sharky sighed, rubbing her shoulder in comfort. “I’m not sayin’ that he doesn’t deserve to pay for the shit he’s done, and I’m not sayin’ that I wouldn’t be glad to put an end to Jake-n-bake, but you ‘n me both know that if I hurt him it’ll hurt you in the long run, and I don’t give a fuck what he does or doesn’t deserve, I’m not gonna be the one to do that to you.”

She really didn’t deserve a friend like Sharky Boshaw.

“I hate him,” she sobbed. “I hate him so fucking much.”

It was only because her face was buried in his shoulder that Rook didn’t see the uncharacteristic glare on Sharky’s face, “Me too.”

It was likely the combination of copious amounts of alcohol mixed with shock and sheer exhaustion, but at some point Rook passed out in Sharky’s arms, and when she came to she was tucked up, a makeshift blanket around her, his green hoodie tucked under her head as a pillow.

The morning didn’t bring any clarity with it. Staci still needed her. Alive or not, she owed it to him to find him and bring him home. She had a duty to uphold, a job to do. Whatever there was between her and Jacob Seed, it changed nothing; she was the Deputy and there were people relying on her. She wasn’t going to tuck her tail between her legs and run off to lick her wounds.

She couldn’t go back to the Militia until Jacob was dead, she didn’t doubt Tammy’s promise to end her with a bullet between her eyes, and even if she didn’t, Wheaty just might. She couldn’t even blame them for that, it wasn’t like she didn’t deserve it for what she’d done to Eli. He’d taken her in and she’d repaid him by slaughtering him. It might not have been by her own free will, but what difference did that make, really? God only knew what they’d do to her if they found out the truth about what happened up on that hill.

Trying to breach the Jacob’s armoury with him still alive and kicking was almost a death wish – soulmates or not. She couldn’t forget that he’d made her into a time bomb, a few notes of that stupid song and she’d snap. Would he let her loose on the resistance? Put her back in the cages and let nature do its job? Let one of his chosen put her down like the rabid animal she’d become? Or maybe he’d leave her like that – his perfect little soldier, his soulmate, ready to kill at the snap of his fingers for the sake of the Project.

She couldn’t just abandon Staci.

Yet the very thought of seeing  _ him _ again had her insides twisting up into knots.

She should have known, her grandma had warned her all those years ago, soulmates weren’t the kind of thing you could outrun. It shouldn’t have surprised her when she came out of the shower, having washed all the blood, sweat and grime from her skin, to find Sharky, white faced and wide eyed, listening intently to the radio.

Upon hearing her re-enter, he looked up and tossed it to her wordlessly. The sound of Joseph Seed’s voice filled the room as she clicked it on.

“Brothers and sisters, today I have joyous news.”

Her heart dropped, yet she couldn’t bring herself to lift her finger and cut him off. She reached her free hand out and Sharky took it, squeezing tight.

“After years of searching, my brother Jacob has found his soulmate in the Deputy. My children, she is still lost, misguided in her efforts, scared to accept her place amongst us. Do not fear, she will return to Jacob before long and she _will _be welcomed into our family as God wills it. It is not too late for her, for any of those who still stand in opposition of us and the truth, they can be saved, and it is our _duty_ to save them, whether they ask for it or not-” Joseph kept talking, but the ringing in her ears drowned out the rest of it.

Another squeeze to her hand and Rook glanced up to meet Sharky’s worried gaze, “It’s been playing on repeat all morning.”

Nausea rose within her like a wave and a split second later she was dashing for the bathroom, throwing the lid of the toilet up just in time to empty her guts into the porcelain bowl.

She didn’t even really feel Sharky’s hand on her back, patting her as the worst of it passed.

It wasn’t even the fact that Joseph was broadcasting her dirty little secret across the County that bothered her, it was that all of it was a lie. Jacob didn’t want her; he wasn’t waiting for her to turn up at his doorstep, throw her arms around him and pledge herself to him and the Project. If he wanted her there, all he had to do was play that fucking song and she’d come home like a lost puppy.

He wasn’t interested in a loving reunion, he just wanted to  _ hurt _ her. He couldn’t touch her, so that was the next best thing.

Fuck him.

She cleaned herself up, dusted herself off, and stalked from that cabin with her head held high and Sharky at her side. Rook wasn’t some shrinking violet, if he thought that that was enough to send her running, then he’d have another thing coming.

She’d been warned once, shortly after she’d moved to the County, not to underestimate the Seeds. ‘They’re slippery bastards, but they’re smart, smarter than anyone gives ‘em credit for.’

Jacob understood human behaviour, to a certain extent. He’d seen the worst humanity had to offer, he knew how quickly people turned on another, the ease at which lines were drawn and it became  _ us _ versus  _ them. _ Fear made people irrational, violent, volatile. It was a powerful motivator, and the people in Hope County were swimming in it.

She’d been too angry, too caught up in her own heartbreak to realise that Jacob’s intention hadn’t been to hurt her, or rather, not _ just _ to hurt her.

The resistance was scared – they had every right to be, and with a few honeyed words, the Seeds had kicked that fear into overdrive. It didn’t matter that Rook had fought for and with the resistance time after time, or how many people she’d saved from the peggies grasp. The moment Joseph’s voice hit the airwaves; Rook became a threat.

A traitor.

A whore.

Every day, Joseph’s pleading words echoed throughout the County, begging her, his soon to be sister in law, to give in and come to them, and every day, Jacob remained silent. No mocking calls, long winded analogies or thinly veiled taunts about her weakness – nothing but complete and utter radio silence.

Rook tried not to let that bother her, focusing her attention on trying to stay alive now that she was being hunted from two fronts.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise when the Whitetails turned against her. She’d known that she wouldn’t be welcomed back their until she gave them Jacob Seed’s head on a platter, but she hadn’t expected them to outright target her either. Maybe she should have, was it any less than she deserved?

The peggies on her tail were much more familiar territory, or at least, they should have been. They pursued her relentlessly, day and night. She went without food, without sleep, desperate to evade them.

Yet the peggies, unlike the Militia, weren’t trying to kill her. Their bullets were filled with Bliss, the Judges they hunted with restrained – used for tracking not for the actual fighting. Capture not kill; somehow that was even more terrifying. Firing back felt a lot more like murder than it used to. It was one thing to kill someone who was trying to kill you, another entirely when they weren’t.

So she ran with Sharky by her side. Those who once offered her shelter, food, supplies of any kind turned her out, some even outright threatened her. Rook could try and leave the Whitetails, if her pursuers would let her, but there was no telling what awaited her in the Valley or the Henbane. Sharky still had her back, Hurk too, but the others - Mary May, Whitehorse, Nick and Kim, would they stand by her side still? Jess had already thrown her lot in with the Whitetails – the only grace she’d given Rook was a warning shot from her bow as she and Sharky fled over the mountains.

Would her friends believe her when she told them she didn’t want to be his soulmate? That he didn’t want her, either?

It didn’t really matter, Rook couldn’t leave the Whitetails, not when Staci’s life still hung in the balance.

So she fought as best she could, all the while trying to figure out what the hell she was supposed to be doing, and that was fine, right up until the day that Sharky got shot.

Rook hadn’t seen who’d fired the round, only that Sharky had jumped in the way at the last second. By some miracle, it hit him in the shoulder – a flesh wound. Painful, but it wouldn’t kill him. He was adamant that he wasn’t going anywhere – bullet wound or not.

“We’re ride or die, I’m not leaving you, Po-po.”

But Rook had just shook her head, barely holding back her tears. “This isn’t up for discussion, Sharky. You’re my best fucking friend, you know that right?” She waited until he nodded before continuing. “This isn’t what you signed up for. I won’t lose you. Stay with Hurk for a little while, I’ll come visit you soon, if…” she trailed off uneasily.

Sheer panic lit Sharky’s face, and he lurched up to reach for her, only for Rook to stop him with a gentle hand on his chest.

“If what? If you’re still alive?! Who’s gonna watch your back if I’m not there? Rook, please,” his voice broke on her name, the sound so unfamiliar on his lips. “He might be your soulmate, but that doesn’t mean you’re gonna be safe out there on your own.”

She forced a smile onto her face, “I’ll be back in a few days. Please, just look after yourself until then, okay?”

It took hours of convincing, but eventually he relented, letting her go so long as she promised to radio in twice a day until she came back.

Maybe it was for the best. If anything happened to him, Rook didn’t know if she’d be able to forgive herself. She’d move quicker on her own too, draw less attention – she’d be a harder target to track, or so she told herself. Yet no matter where she went, she felt like she was being watched, her every move catalogued. It was paranoia – if anyone  _ had _ been watching her so closely, she’d be dead, or worse.

Jacob’s men might not have fired the shot that had taken Sharky out of the equation, but whether he’d orchestrated it or not, he’d gotten what he wanted. Rook was utterly alone, no friends left to get in the way, no allies to stand at her back, just her and the impossible task before her.

It was funny, she almost missed the radio calls. As unsettling as they’d been, at least they were a sign she was on the right path. Rook would liberate an outpost, and get a call, blow up a beacon, get a call. It was routine, familiar. He’d get so riled up, and when she was in a really good mood, she’d feed into it, poking the bear just because she could. He’d never get mad, but she could just tell that she’d gotten under his skin.

Every so often her radio would crackle to life, and for a moment she’d inexplicably hold her breath, only to be met with silence for a few seconds before the signal cut out. She didn’t think too much of it, sometimes her radio picked up things it shouldn’t – it wasn’t infallible, and she had more important things to worry about.

Like how the hell she was going to get Staci out on her own.

More than once she’d considered whether it wouldn’t have simply been easier to march up to the gates of the Veteran’s Centre and offer herself up in a trade. Let him take her, let him kill her, let him do whatever the fuck he wanted so long as Staci went free. It wasn’t like Hope County would mourn her loss.

But she wasn’t stupid. If he held any interest in her, his  _ beloved _ soulmate, he wouldn’t have let her run, he would have followed. He’d let her go, practically shoved himself off of her – a bargain only worked when  _ both _ parties held something that the other wanted.

In the dead of night when sleep wouldn’t come Rook wondered whether, if they’d met before all of this had happened, before she’d become the Deputy and everything had gone to hell, things might have been different. If she hadn’t had been his enemy, would he have wanted her? Would she have wanted him?

She always thought that if she did have a soulmate, she’d be fine just walking away. Yet even as she despised Jacob, it felt like there was a hole inside of her, a little piece missing. And when she thought of him, the look in his eyes when he’d spoken about Miller and the horrors of the war, it ached in the deepest, darkest parts of her soul. He’d been through hell, and it didn’t excuse what he’d become, but maybe if she’d been there earlier – she could have helped.

Maybe she could have loved him, and just maybe, he might have loved her.

It would be easier if she didn’t feel anything, but even in her burning rage, the fury that fuelled her, there was something there that didn’t belong, or maybe it did, and that was the problem. She finally understood what her grandma had meant all those years ago. Jacob could die tomorrow at somebody else’s hands, and nothing would ever be the same. Whether she liked it or not, he’d left his mark on her and nothing, no amount of scrubbing or denial could remove it.

Jacob Seed was her soulmate, she could run halfway around the world, and he’d still be hers, just as she was his – like a moth to flame they’d always be drawn to each other.

It didn’t change a thing. Rook might not have been a hero anymore, but she was still the Deputy, and she was going to save her friend no matter the cost.

But first, she needed supplies. Her ammo was low, she hadn’t eaten in two days and she was all for taking risks, but there was a difference between being foolhardy and straight up stupid. There was a prepper stash not too far from her current position – a bunker she and Sharky had stumbled across weeks ago but hadn’t had the chance to properly raid.

It never occurred to her that the bunker might have been watched, that she wasn’t the only one trying to stock up.

She shouldn’t have dropped her guard, but it had only been for a second as she sprinted for the hatch. The warning shot, fired into the air, pulled her to a skittering stop. There, standing not twenty yards from her hidden away in the tree line was a hunter, his shotgun aimed right at her chest. 

Instantly Rook’s hands flew up in the air, “I’ll go. I don’t want trouble, just let me walk away.” There were other bunkers, other places for her to find what she needed, this one wasn’t worth dying for.

But the hunter’s eyes just narrowed as he stepped towards her. “I know who you are. I know  _ what _ you are,” he spat.

Her rifle was strapped to her back, she wouldn’t be able to reach it in time, but the knife holstered at her thigh, maybe if she was quick enough she could get the draw on him. “I’m not a threat,” neither of them believed that for a second. “I don’t  _ want _ to fight you, just put the gun down and let me go in peace.”

But the hunter just shook his head, taking another step towards her, a scowl twisting his face. “You fucking peggie whore.”

Rook had stared down enough men and women trying to kill her to recognise the look in their eyes, the hard glint that told her they’d take the shot, consequences be damned. She saw that same look in his eyes, and for a moment she considered resigning herself to that fate. What an ending - Deputy Rook, fallen hero of the Resistance, friendless and alone, killed over some scraps of food and a few bullets.

But fuck that. Rook had come too far to die at the hands of a scared little man with a gun.

Her fingers itched to grab for her knife, but she kept them firmly in the air, “I’m not what you think I am.”

The hunter just sneered, “Bullshit.”

Rook inched closer, “If I was, do you think I’d be running around by myself? Half starved, out of ammo, forced to raid a goddamned bunker? If I meant anything to the Project, to my soulmate, do you really think that they’d let me?”

His gun didn’t lower, but Rook saw a flicker of hesitation in his eyes and that was enough to encourage her to take another cautious step forward, her arms up, palms open in a gesture of peace.

“I’m not with them, I just-”

Rook didn’t see the white wolf barrelling towards her at full speed until it was too late. Time seemed to slow as the snarling creature leapt from the ground and collided with her stomach – the force knocking her backwards.

As she fell Rook heard two shots fire, felt the spray of blood and brain matter splattering across her face, a searing pain tear through her hip. She crashed to the ground, dimly registering the now headless body of the hunter falling beside her as the growling Judge, saliva dripping from its teeth, stepped over her body, its breath hot against her cheek.

Trapped beneath the wolf’s body, the pain in her hip becoming harder to ignore with every passing second, Rook couldn’t help but wish that the hunter’s aim had been just a  _ little  _ bit better – she’d take a bullet to the head over being torn to pieces by the bloodthirsty blissed out wolves any day of the week.

And yet instead of lunging for her throat, the wolf only lowered its great, shaggy head, its cool, wet nose sniffing along her throat. It was definitely shock that made her laugh when a rough, pink tongue licked across her cheek like an overeager puppy.

A sharp whistle sounded and suddenly the Judge retreated, leaving Rook lying open and vulnerable in the dirt. Shock was a funny thing, rationally, she understood that the dizzying weightlessness that settled into her body wasn’t a  _ good _ thing, but in her current state she found it difficult to care. It was better than the alternative.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you, pup?” a familiar voice growled, and Rook turned her head to see Jacob approaching, a deep frown etched across his face. “You’re just so fucking  _ determined _ to get yourself killed, aren’t you?”

And yet as the dark spots in her vision began to bloom, Rook could only smile, weakly trying to reach for him as he crouched down beside her.

“Jake…” she murmured softly, “You’re here…”

Something shifted in those beautiful blue eyes of his, but he didn’t reply as he batted her hands away, scooping her up from the ground and cradled her against his chest. It wouldn’t have made a difference either way, Rook had lost consciousness.

***

It was a testament to the strange path her life had taken in the past few months that waking up in a strange place with no memory of how she’d come to be there no longer startled her.

The bed she was in was firm but not hard and she was warm – the blankets piled on top of her soft and thick. A dull aching pain burned in her side, but she’d had worse.

Even before she opened her eyes, Rook knew that he was there. It wasn’t the creaking that sounded from his chair every time he shifted his weight, nor the familiar scent of gunpowder, smoke and cedar in the air, it was something she just… knew.

It wasn’t a surprise then, when her eyes flickered open to find him sitting at her bedside, elbows braced on his thighs, his chin resting on his clasped hands.

She met his gaze for the briefest of seconds before she turned her attention to her surroundings – a bedroom, clearly, but not one that she’d ever been in before. It was clean, minimal, nothing but the bed she’d been tucked into and a few pieces of old wooden furniture; a closet, a writing desk, a mirror hanging on the opposite wall and a nightstand. Still, it was in better condition than a lot of other buildings she’d seen lately, particularly in the Whitetails.

“Where am I?” she asked, her voice rough and raspy.

He leaned forward, grabbing the glass of water that was sitting on the nightstand and passing it to her wordlessly. He raised a single eyebrow as she eyed it suspiciously before she eventually decided that it was safe enough to take a sip. The moment the cool liquid hit her throat, Rook almost moaned in relief, and she gratefully gulped down the rest under Jacob’s watchful gaze.

“My home,” he answered simply when she set the glass down.

Her surprise must have shown on her face because the corners of Jacob’s lips twitched into a smirk and he chuckled, “You thought that I lived at the Vet Centre?”

She shrugged, biting back a wince at the sharp stabbing pain that accompanied the gesture. Truth be told she hadn’t exactly given much through to where the Seeds lived – Jacob least of all.

“I suppose you’re not totally off base. I do spend more time there than I should, but this,  _ this _ is my home.” He glanced around the room, a soft smile playing across his face. He almost looked proud.

“Why am I here, Jacob?”

His eyes flashed to hers, and suddenly the amusement on his face died. “No thanks for saving your life then?”

Rook spluttered, “Saving my- saving my life?! He wasn’t going to shoot me, I was talking him down when you sicced your damn wolf on us.”

His eyes hardened, the muscles in his jaw tightening. “You think I was willing to take that chance?”

“He was only holding that damned gun at me because he believed the bullshit  _ your _ brother’s been spouting about me day after day!” she spat, jabbing her finger towards him.

And just like that, Jacob’s irritation fled - his gaze softening, the tension slipping from his shoulders with a weary sigh. “Joseph… he thinks he’s helping. I didn’t ask for him to do that.”

Rook scoffed, anger and more than a touch of resentment bubbling through her veins. “No? You don’t want the whole County knowing your dirty secret? You must be so disappointed - The mighty protector of Eden’s Gate, Jacob Seed soulmates with the weak little Deputy,” she sneered.

He almost flinched, rearing back in his seat as if she’d struck him. “Is that what this is about? You think I’m, what,  _ disappointed  _ in you?”

“Aren’t you?”

He scoffed, his blue eyes narrowing as he leaned back in close. “I know what I am, Deputy, what my  _ purpose _ in life is. Every bad thing I’ve ever done, and there are a whole  _ lot _ of them, I’ve done for my brothers without regrets. You’ve seen what I can do, heard all the stories, so tell me honey, do you think I’m worthy of redemption?”

The question hung heavy in the air, but Rook refused to give him the satisfaction of admitting the truth. He studied her face for a long minute before pulling away with a self deprecating grin.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so. The moment Joseph was born, he was all that mattered, John too.  _ They _ were my priority. What I wanted or needed wasn’t important,  _ that _ was the sacrifice I made.” He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head, “Soulmates are rare, pup, so damned rare, it never even crossed my mind that maybe I had one because what would be the fucking point in that?”

Something in the pit of Rook’s stomach twisted uncomfortably at the loathing and contempt that dripped from his words. But that was nothing compared to the look in his eyes, the utter agony that shone through those piercing blue pools when he met her gaze once more. Rook couldn’t stop the gasp that slipped from her lips, nor the dull ache that spread through her heart at the sight of it. As Jacob’s eyebrow cocked at her momentary lapse, Rook furiously schooled her features into a mask of cool neutrality. Jacob Seed neither wanted nor deserved her pity, much less her pain.

If he noticed her efforts, he paid them no mind, continuing with his monologue as if nothing were amiss.

“And then you show up with your fucking warrant, trying your very best to destroy what we’ve built here. Maybe it might have been different if we caught you that night, but then again, you don’t seem like the type to submit easily. Maybe that’s why I like you so damned much.” 

“You’ve got a funny way of showing it,” she growled.

He did laugh at that, but again it was hollow and utterly joyless. “I did what was best, what I had to do. Those trials were supposed to break you, pup. The conditioning, starvation, parading Peaches back and forth in front of your cage, fuck, even Joseph’s little chat with you, it was supposed to destroy you, but you just  _ refused _ to cooperate. You should have seen it, sweetheart - you cruised through the trials like they were nothing, a mindless little killing machine, damn near  _ perfect _ and just when I’d think we had you, you’d slip away and go right back to fucking everything up.”

Abruptly he stood, knocking back the chair as he did. Rook watched warily as he took the two short strides to her bedside, falling to his knees beside her. She didn’t flinch when his both of his hands wrapped around one of her own, pulling it up over his chest.

“I wanted you to break, Rook,” he admitted, his eyes flickering across her face with a desperation she didn’t understand. “I wanted you hopeless, alone and  _ broken _ so I could take what was left and use it. I almost through I got there too, when you came out from the Wolf’s Den. You were so angry, so  _ hurt _ . You tore through my men like they were paper and for one shining moment, you were perfect.” He sighed heavily, “And then you tried to hit me.”

Rook exhaled, her own eyes falling shut. “And you realised what I was to you,” she murmured. She resigned herself to his words - sure to be the final nail in the coffin of whatever fucked up relationship was between them. 

His hands trembling against hers, Jacob nodded. “I felt it, like a lock suddenly clicking into place. You were my soulmate; the woman I’d all but tortured. Out of everyone, even John and Joe,  _ you _ were the one fucking person I was supposed to protect, and I  _ hurt _ you, I damn near destroyed you.”

Rook’s eyes widened, her heart constricting in her chest. Suddenly the room felt too hot, the blankets too constricting. She shuddered, ignoring the burning pain in her hip to try and kick the sheets off of her so that she could  _ breathe _ . Jacob, sensing her panic, squeezed her hand gently, his calloused thumb rubbing soft, soothing circles into her skin as if that was supposed to help calm her.

“You ran, and I let you go, told myself you were better off without me. I don’t fucking deserve you, not after what I’ve done. What kind of a man does something like that to his soulmate?” he asked, but Rook couldn’t seem to find the words to answer, her head was still spinning.

One of his hands slipped from hers, reaching out to brush a stray curl from her face, his fingers lingering on the soft skin of her cheek. “And then I realised something; you’re stubborn, Deputy. You weren’t going to stop, you’d die fighting for your goddamned ideals.” He shook his head, that hard glint returning to his eyes. “So I decided to be selfish. Whether you like it or not you’re my soulmate and I’m not about to let you kill yourself for pride’s sake.”

Even as her heart raced, sweat beading at her temple, Rook glared at him, “So what, you’ll keep me trapped here like some kind of prisoner? Super romantic, Jake.”

But Jacob just shook his head, biting back a snort of amusement. “You walk out that door and I won’t stop you, but I want you to understand something, sweetheart. You won’t hurt my family, and they’re not going to hurt you, either. You’re fighting a losing battle out there, and in the end it won’t even matter. I don’t know whether the voice Joseph hears is God or a figment of his imagination, but he’s right about something; the Collapse is coming, one way or another. Go play the hero, see how far it gets you when the people you’re fighting for despise you - I’ll keep you from getting yourself hurt. But make no mistake, when that time comes, and it  _ will _ come, I’ll be selfish.”

She opened her mouth to say something,  _ anything _ \- tell him that he was crazy, or wrong, that she didn’t want to be his soulmate and didn’t need his protection, or maybe that no matter what he called it, kidnapping was still kidnapping and she wasn’t going to go willingly, collapse be damned, but before Rook could even utter a word, Jacob was on his feet, leaning over her to lay a featherlight kiss against her forehead. “Get some rest, honey. You’re not going anywhere tonight with that bullet wound.” 

With one final, lingering glance, Jacob swept from the room, leaving Rook alone once more.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed, leave some kudos or comments if you did :)


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